


Three Little Words

by oftirnanog



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marauders' Era, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftirnanog/pseuds/oftirnanog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius takes care of Remus after a particularly bad full moon</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Little Words

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on lj for [Shaggy Dog Swap](http://shaggydog-swap.livejournal.com/tag/author%3A%20oftirnanog) to accompany Duskblue's art Morning

With a crack of splintering wood the entire armoire crashed forward pinning Moony underneath it. The resulting howl reverberated off the wall and straight through Sirius’ bones. He reacted on instinct—his only thoughts _Moony’s hurt, lift up the armoire, get Moony out_. He barely realized what he’d done until he felt the rubble on the floor sharp on his bare feet. The significance of it didn’t register; he was too distracted by the snarling, struggling wolf to care.

            Prongs appeared only moments later, stopping Sirius after he’d taken only two steps towards Moony. Sirius stepped back to avoid the heavy hooves, ducking in an attempt to weave around the immensity of the stag. But Prongs swung his head, catching an antler on Sirius’ collarbone and ripping through the soft fabric of his t-shirt to scrape the skin open.

            “He needs help!” Sirius shouted, straightening up and pulling himself to his full height in order to challenge Prongs head on.  

            Moony whimpered and scraped his claws against the floor trying to drag himself out, but Prongs met Sirius’ challenge with a refusal to back down, eyes alight with a ferocity Sirius had never seen before. Another noise from Moony, caught somewhere between a whine and a howl, had Sirius jerking forward. This time the antlers caught him on the arm, once again tearing fabric and drawing blood. Prongs reared, heavy hooves almost hitting Sirius in the head, and landed with a colossal noise that rattled the entire shack.

With a snort and another swing of his head Prongs began backing Sirius towards the door. Sirius let out a guttural noise of frustration before resigning himself to being pushed out the door.

            James transformed as soon as they were in the mouth of the tunnel and shoved Sirius into the damp wall, sending dirt into Sirius’ hair from the impact.

            “What the fuck was that?” he demanded.

            “He’s hurt!” Sirius yelled, trying to force past James.

            James shoved him again, and Peter, who Sirius had forgotten about until now, took a step back from the two of them.

            “And what do you think’ll happen to you if you try to get near him right now?” James shouted. “You bloody idiot. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

            Sirius’ heart was racing so fast that the rush of blood in his ears was causing James’ voice to sound distant, even while it sounded too loud for the muffled silence of the tunnel. Moony howled again and Sirius felt it like a punch in the gut. He wanted to be sick, but more than that he wanted to run back to Remus and pull him out from beneath the shattered wood of the armoire.

            “Fuck,” Sirius’ voice broke around the word and he twined his fingers in his hair, not knowing what else to do with his hands. He wanted to hit something. Instead he fell back against the dirt wall and tried to steady his breathing.

            “There’s nothing you can do for him right now,” James said, his voice low and dangerous. He looked furious.

            “We can’t just leave him like that,” Sirius said, swallowing down the lump that felt like a bludger lodged in his throat. 

            “Then we’ll wait until sun-up,” James said, raising his voice again. He turned away from Sirius, breathing hard, and scrubbed his hand over his face. Then he looked at Peter and said, “Can you hang around the hospital wing and make sure Pomfrey doesn’t come down too early and find us here?”

            “How?” Peter asked, looking terrified.

            “I don’t know, tell her you have an STD for all I care, just don’t let her near here for the next hour,” James said.

            Peter nodded and then scurried away in rat form.

            James turned back to Sirius and glared at him. For a moment Sirius thought James might haul off and punch him. He hadn’t seen him this angry since the incident with Snape, when his prank had gone horribly awry and James had refused to speak to him for a week afterwards.

            He opened his mouth to say something, but James cut him off. “I don’t want to hear your fucking excuses, Sirius.” There was something raw about James’ voice as he said it, like something was trying to claw it’s way out of his throat, but he wouldn’t let it. “If you _ever_ do that again I swear I will hex you into oblivion to stop you from coming with us to any full moon for the rest of your life. You fucking selfish bastard.”

            “Selfish?” Sirius demanded, straightening away from the wall. Hitting something was rapidly gaining appeal, and James was so conveniently close.

            “Yes. Selfish.” James replied. “How do you think Moony would feel if he hurt you? Do you think he’d ever forgive himself?”

            “I’m sorry, okay?” Sirius shouted. “I panicked and I didn’t think–”

            “No, that’s right, you didn’t think. Because Sirius Black never stops to use his brain before making decisions.”

            “Hey!” Sirius yelled. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. He was hurt! He still fucking is!” Sirius let out a loud breath and winced as another howl reached their ears.

            James shoved him again. “Do you really not understand how dangerous he is like this? Forget becoming a werewolf. You could have died!”

            “I get it! Nothing happened though, did it? So you can relax. What the fuck’s your problem?”

            “You scared the hell out of me!” James shouted. His voice caught in the middle, startling Sirius out of his anger. “Shit,” James breathed out and turned away, both hands twisting in his hair.

            “James,” Sirius said, reaching out a hand to grab James’ shoulder. “Look, mate, I’m sorry. All right? It was a reflex.”

            James nodded and turned to look at Sirius again. “I mean it about making sure you don’t come with us anymore if you pull that again.”

            “Yeah,” Sirius said with a nod before pulling James into a rough hug.

            “Stupid sod,” James said as pulled away, shoving him in the shoulder again, though more lightly this time. He sighed and looked down the tunnel towards the shack. “You reckon we can go up there? Bound to be almost sun up by now. As Padfoot and Prongs, of course.”

            Sirius nodded and dutifully went dog.

            Moony had stopped struggling. He looked up at them helplessly and let out a half-hearted whine. Sirius padded forward and lay down in front of him so their noses were nearly touching. He whined in response, ears pressed back, and tentatively licked at Moony’s snout to try and reassure him.

            The sun was just beginning to come up, sending a grayish glow over the floors and highlighting the dust that clogged the air. The wolf began to tremble and twist, mewling and snarling as his tendons pulled and snapped into a different position. Claws and fur retracted to be replaced by ragged fingernails and scraped skin.

            Sirius leapt to his feet, concentrating each molecule on maintaining his dog-form when every instinct was screaming at him to do the opposite. When the writhing finally stopped, Remus, pale and too thin as always, groaned and coughed weakly—the sharp edges of the armoire digging into his skin. In one fluid movement, Sirius and James transformed and rushed forward to lift the heavy furniture off his body.

            Once they were sure it was secure against the wall they returned to Remus and gently shifted the splinters of broken wood away from him. His eyes fluttered, but didn’t fully open. Sirius moved to the bed and grabbed the ragged quilt from it to drape over Remus, but James stopped him with a hand around his forearm.

            “Don’t you think it’ll look suspicious if Pomfrey finds him wrapped in a blanket?” James asked.

            Sirius clenched his jaw and swallowed, but nodded all the same and tossed the quilt back on the bed. He hated seeing Remus like this and it was even worse to have to leave him now—so exposed and vulnerable on the floor, hurt and probably cold. His body was covered in short scrapes, some obviously deep, and his arm looked broken.

            “Come on, Sirius,” James said quietly.

            “Couldn’t we just…” Sirius wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to do. Stay with Remus? Carry him back to castle himself? Use some healing spells so that Remus wouldn’t hurt when he finally came to? All of that, really.

            James shook his head. “Pomfrey can’t find us here.” Sirius swallowed and nodded, eyes still trained on Remus’ haggard form. A gentle tug from James. “I don’t want to leave him either.” It was the strained quality of James’ voice, the one that suggested his voice was about to break, that eventually prompted Sirius to make his way out of the room.

            They made their way to the castle in silence, Sirius fighting the urge to turn back the entire time. He was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other and just _continuing forward_ that he was startled to find themselves at the front doors so quickly. James tugged his invisibility cloak out from his robe and draped it over them.

            At that moment the door burst open to reveal a harassed Madame Pomfrey, and they stepped back quickly, nearly tripping over one another as their limbs tangled in the fabric of the cloak. Peter appeared a moment later to stare after her anxiously. The moment Pomfrey was far enough away James whipped off the cloak. Peter jumped back about three feet, hand clutched to his chest.

            “Merlin’s beard!”

            “Sorry, Pete.” James said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

            “I thought she was going to find you,” Peter breathed out, deflating with relief. “How’s Remus?”

            Sirius shrugged and scuffed the toe of his shoe against the stone floor.

            “He’ll be all right,” James said. “He’s pretty banged up, but he’s been worse. His arm might be broken, but Pomfrey will fix that in a blink.”

            Peter nodded.

            James yawned loudly. “I’m knackered. Best get a few hours sleep, yeah? Quidditch practice later.”

            “Go ahead,” Sirius replied. “I’m going to the hospital wing.”

            James looked for a moment like he was about to argue, but seemed to think better of it. Instead he simply said, “At least change your shirt.”

            Sirius glanced down at the tear in the sleeve and the blood stain on the collar and shrugged.

            James snorted. “Suit yourself.”

            Sirius looked up to meet his gaze, feeling utterly defeated and useless. James took a step towards him. “He’s going to be all right, Sirius. He always is.”

            Sirius swallowed and nodded, looking back down at his shoes.

            James grabbed him by the shoulders to give him a gentle shake. “You know,” he said, low enough that only Sirius would be able to hear. “One of these days you should tell him how you feel.”

            Sirius’ head snapped up to look at James with wide eyes. James raised his eyebrows and nodded once.  Then he let go of Sirius and tilted his head, saying, “Go on, we’ll be down later.”

            Sirius watched James and Peter walk away and then shuffled down the hall in the opposite direction. He sat down heavily on the bench outside the infirmary and thought about what James had said. He should have figured that James knew. James noticed everything and he knew Sirius so well that at times it seemed they were the same person divided in two. But Sirius couldn’t tell Remus how he felt. After James, Remus was his best friend. He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t do yet another stupid thing to risk their friendship. It had been awkward enough when the prank with Snape had spiraled so far out of control. He didn’t want to do anything to mess things up again. Not now they were back to normal. Sirius sighed and let his head fall heavily against the wall behind him. It hurt a bit, but he didn’t care. The cold stone was somehow comforting while he waited.

            He must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing he knew, Madame Pomfrey was shaking his shoulder to wake him.

            “You can come in now, Mr. Black,” she said softly, and then turned back towards the infirmary doors.

            Sirius stood and followed her hurriedly to the back of the room where Remus lay, fast asleep and so clearly exhausted. Even asleep he looked worried and bone weary. The sun was streaming through the window with growing strength now, picking up the gold in Remus’ hair so that it looked like Midas had run his fingers through it.

But the light also made the cuts on his skin look redder and angrier, and highlighted the silvery streaks of his many scars. Sirius’ throat tightened painfully and the backs of his eyes prickled dangerously. He was not going to cry. Remus didn’t need that. Besides, it wouldn’t change anything. And it would feel too much like admitting defeat.

It wasn’t fair. Remus was easily the kindest most selfless person Sirius knew and there wasn’t a person alive that deserved this less. Sirius would have gladly taken his place if he could. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to sit on the floor and sob or lash out and hit something. Maybe both. Mostly he didn’t want to feel so utterly useless.

            “He’s been worse,” Madame Pomfrey said, catching the look on Sirius’ face.

            Sirius nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

            “And what happened to you?” she asked, taking in the state of his shirt with appraising eyes.

            “Fell down the stairs,” Sirius muttered.

            “Hmm,” she replied, arching an eyebrow. She didn’t believe him, but she also didn’t press him and for that he was grateful.

            “I’ve given him a sleeping draught, so he won’t wake for at least another hour,” she said. “You can sit in that chair if you’re going to stay, which I gather you are.”

            Sirius nodded, but didn’t move towards the chair. He didn’t want to fall asleep again.

            About an hour and half later Remus rolled over with a soft groan, his eyes half-open, and looked wearily up at Sirius, who was still standing.

            “Hey, Remus,” Sirius said softly. “How you doin’?”

            “All right.” His voice was raspy, as though from over use, and Sirius wondered if the howling did that.

            “What happened to you?” Remus croaked, a frown furrowing his brow as he eyed Sirius’ t-shirt.

            “Oh,” Sirius said, looking down. The blood had dried to a crusty brown by now. “Antlers.”

            “They ripped your shirt? I thought…” Remus knew that anything that happened to Sirius as Padfoot shouldn’t affect his clothes.

            Sirius sighed, realizing he was going to have to tell Remus what happened. James was right. He should’ve changed his shirt.  “The armoire fell on you,” he said heavily.

            “Explains why I hurt so much,” Remus replied. He looked Sirius in the eyes, suspicion writ large over his face, and said evenly, “Doesn’t explain your shirt.”

            Sirius looked out the window, squinting into the sun. “I panicked a bit,” he finally said. “Tried to lift it off you.”

            Remus twitched as though trying to sit up and said, “Sirius!”

            Sirius placed a firm hand on Remus’ shoulder to keep him from sitting. “Lie down. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Nothing happened.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “James is good at keeping a cool head. Didn’t even let me get near you.”

            “You shouldn’t’ve done that,” Remus sighed. “You never take it seriously.” He turned his head away from Sirius revealing a large gash that ran the length of his jaw.

            Sirius hissed and reached his fingers towards the cut, but drew them back when Remus turned to face him again looking worried and upset.

            “Can’t Pomfrey mend these?” he asked, indicating all the scrapes and cuts that peppered Remus’ otherwise pale body.

            Remus shook his head, examining a particularly nasty one on his forearm. “She had a hard enough time healing the broken bone in my arm this morning. Werewolves heal differently. Weird cursed magic or something. It’s better to just let it heal naturally. They’ll be scars by tomorrow.”

            Sirius frowned. Remus hated his scars. Sirius actually didn’t mind them, kind of liked them in that they were such a part of Remus. But he hated what they represented, hated that they were a constant reminder for Remus. Sirius had a sudden urge to crawl under the covers with Remus and tug him close, try and absorb some of the pain.

            “Mind if I lie down?” Sirius asked, eyes trained on the small hole in the blanket that he was absently picking at.

            “Go ahead,” Remus replied, shifting back slightly to give Sirius room.

            The mattress squeaked in protest at the additional weight as Sirius maneuvered himself into a comfortable position on top of the covers. Remus squeezed his eyes shut against some invisible force and it took Sirius a moment to realize that he was rocking the bed too much.

            “Is there anything I can do?” Sirius asked.

            Remus shook his head and winced immediately. “No,” he muttered. “It’s mostly just my head. Feels like it’s about to explode.”

            Sirius gently rested his hand on the side of Remus’ head so that his fingers curled around the back of his skull and his thumb could rub soothing circles into Remus’ temple.

            “Your hands are cold,” Remus mumbled.

            “Sorry.”

            “No. It feels nice. It’s helping.”

            Sirius increased the pressure of his thumb ever so slightly and tangled his fingers in the golden brown strands of Remus’ hair to get to his scalp. Remus closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillow.

            “Cold hands, warm heart. Isn’t that the saying?” Remus said.

            “You’re babbling I think.”

            “Hm. I’m going back to sleep.”

            “Okay.”

            Sirius kept his thumb moving and watched as the muscles in Remus’ forehead began to relax and his breathing evened out. He looked a bit better now. More relaxed. Some of the pain was ebbing away from his features. Sirius sighed and pressed his lips together, watching closely as Remus’ long eyelashes flickered with a dream. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but when he was certain there was no chance of Remus waking he carefully pulled him closer and pressed his lips to Remus’ forehead at his hairline.

            Remus shifted closer in his sleep, burrowing his face into Sirius’ shoulder without realizing what he was doing. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep his breathing steady, even while his heart thumped furiously against his ribcage. He gently rested his chin on the top of Remus’ head and tried to stop himself from imagining that Remus was here, warmly snug against his body, because he wanted to be—rather than because he was asleep, and worried, and hurt.

            He really did want to tell him. It sounded so easy in theory—just three little words. But they were burdened with so much meaning. And Sirius wasn’t ready to risk it.

            For now this would have to do.

 


End file.
